


Lost but Found

by innerdialogue



Category: Lost (TV), Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2127381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerdialogue/pseuds/innerdialogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey and Mike have the misfortune of being on board Oceanic Flight 815.  It's not quite the road trip Harvey promised Mike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost but Found

Mike wakes up and vomits up a belly-full of sea water.

He’s lying on his stomach, face smashed into the wet set, and he coughs and coughs and coughs up water until all he tastes is salt and bile. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grimacing when it comes back with blood from a split lip.

Around him people are screaming, crying. There’s smoke in the air, carrying with it the stench of burnt flesh and melting metal. He can feel the heat from the fire even from his place at the water’s edge.

The plane. The plane is scattered across the beach like puzzle pieces, and suddenly Mike remembers. He remembers his seat shuddering as their plane hit a patch of turbulence. He remembers the breath masks falling down from the ceiling.

He remembers Harvey yelling his name, shouting over the rush of air that they would be okay.

-

Harvey’s never seen anyone die before. In his time as a prosecutor for the District Attorney, he’d seen crime scene photos that would make even those with the most hardened stomachs weak in the knees, but other than that, he has lead a gore-free life.

That is, until the island.

He can only stand there in his flooded, sodden loafers as some poor, unwitting man is pull up off of his feet and into the plane engine. The guy barely even has time to scream before he’s sucked in and then the engine is exploding and Harvey is diving to the ground to avoid being hit with shrapnel.

His ears ring, his head pounds, and, as if struck by lightning, he thinks of Mike. Mike, who could be lost or hurt or even…

Harvey can’t think about that. Won’t let himself think about it. He pushes himself up off the ground and starts down the beach, calling out Mike’s name.

-

Mike hasn’t moved much farther from the spot he woke up in when the engine blows up. The sound of it alone almost knocks him off of his feet. He stumbles, splashing in the water, and only just manages to stay upright.

It’s only after the thunder of the explosion rumbles to an end that he can hear someone calling his name.

-

By some miracle, Harvey actually finds their bags.

Not that they are going to be much help; three-piece suits are worthless on a deserted island, even Harvey has to admit. He keeps them though, tucked into the bottom of his suitcase beneath everything else. Mike’s is full of t-shirts and jeans, a couple pairs of cargo shorts. Things people actually wear while they are stranded on the island. Harvey’s sure that the kid will be thrilled to change out of his ruined suit and into something equally as worthless.

There isn’t much else. A few books, some scraps of paper that Harvey keeps, stacking them in a pile he labels as the “Keep” pile. He salvages the things that he thinks will help keep Mike’s mind off of their current situation, as impossible as it may be.

-

When the rains come—and boy do they come—Mike huddles beneath the makeshift shelter they’ve managed to put together for themselves in the shadow of the wreckage. A piece of the fuselage, a long piece of tarpaulin, even a row of airplanes seats that Mike talked someone into helping him drag down the beach. It’s not much, certainly not Harvey’s Manhattan condo or even his shoebox in Brooklyn, but for some reason, it gives Mike a sense of home.

Lightning lights up the sky, thunder rumbles, and Mike tucks himself tighter against the curve of Harvey’s back. It’s not what others may think; it’s cold out here on the beach, and Harvey and Mike will take warmth from anywhere they can get it. Even if it’s from each other.

Rachel’s thousands of miles away and the beach is cold and anyway, curling next to Harvey isn’t exactly a hardship, is it?

-

Harvey doesn’t let Mike out of his sight. Even though he swears he’s fine, that he just wants to walk up the beach to take a look around, Harvey insists that he come along too.

Mike doesn’t argue. Maybe someday, when they’re more established on the island, he’ll be able to walk a little ways into the jungle to take a leak without Harvey tailing him, but for now, he wants to stay as close to Harvey as possible.

The others seem to follow the same instinct to herd together, and soon, there’s a veritable village of tents and lean-tos dotting the beach around the plane wreckage.   
Whatever they’ve scavenged from the crash is cataloged and sorted and there’s something resembling organization slowly slotting into place.

Things are happening out there in the jungle. That isn’t to say that there isn’t just as much going on in their camp, but the jungle seems to make everything worse. The nights are the worse, and if Mike presses in closer to Harvey whenever they hear the faint echo of a scream somewhere in the darkness, Harvey doesn’t say anything.  
-

Against his better judgement, Harvey lets Mike convince him to take a quick swim.

They’re careful to stay as close to the beach as they can. After that girl drowned, everyone has tried to be as safe as possible, and that also means finding a small cove where the tide isn’t as strong. They make sure to tell someone that they’re going, just so that someone has an idea of where they are, before they strip off their clothes and wade into the water.

Later, laid out beneath the canopy of their hut, Mike groans as his reddened skin pulls tight over his shoulders. It’s not the worst sunburn he’s ever had, but the sting of it is enough to makes him long for the air conditioned comfort of his apartment.

The tarp is pushed to the side, and Harvey appears. He’s got a small container in his hands, and he dips his fingers into it as he settles in at Mike’s side. Mike shudders in the breeze.

“I told you to use sunscreen,” Harvey says. He scoops out a dollop of viscous liquid. “You’d think you would learn to listen to me one day.”

“Yeah, yeah--ah that’s cold. What is it?” Mike trembles under Harvey’s fingers.

“Aloe,” Harvey explains, swiping another scoop of the lotion across his shoulders. “Turns out the Korean woman has a green thumb.”

“Her name is--shit, Harvey. Her name is Sun.”

Harvey hums noncommittally and continues to gently rub the lotion into Mike’s damaged skin. His touch is light yet firm and soon Mike feels himself start to doze off. When he’s done, Harvey sets aside the aloe and picks up one of the books Mike has already read and flicks it open to the first page. He’s never been one for pleasure reading before the island, but with nothing else to do but sit next to a sleeping Mike, he decides that he’s never too old to develop new hobbies.  
Mike shifts in his sleep, his head moving to rest against Harvey’s thigh. Holding the book with one hand, Harvey slips his fingers into the soft tufts of hair at the crown of Mike’s head.

Harvey’s always been up for a challenge.  
-


End file.
